It's All Fluid
by I'llbeyourmirror
Summary: Annie and Britta's shopping trip evolves into something more... intimate.
1. Chapter 1

**It's All Fluid**

Britta and Annie are dress shopping together at the local mall for Greendale's Fall Formal.

"Of course the dean has to add another ridiculous event. God forbid we go 2 weeks without a pointless gathering to give Greendale a false sense of being worthwhile."

"Oh, come on, Britta. It'll be fun. You know it will. Especially since you won't be throwing yourself at Jeff this time!"

"Thanks for that, Annie."

Britta's musing over a few racks of discount department store dresses. Does she want to go sexy or conservative this time? Glammed up or natural? Annie already has about six hangers tangled in her fists.

"Britta! I'm trying each of these on. I want you to tell me what you think about each one, okay?"

"Seriously, Annie? Just pick the one you like best."

"Britta. I respect your opinion. Can't you just be flattered and help me out?"

"Okay, okay."

Britta smiles to herself and continues browsing. She knows better than to go shopping with Annie. Britta knows what she wants, she grabs it and she goes. Annie fusses and makes a big deal over every potential purchase. Sure, it's annoying, but Britta has a soft spot for the self-conscious, girlie Annie. Specifically, she has a soft spot for Annie's conflicted, critical, decision-making face. The one where her eyebrows creep into each other, the corners of her pretty little mouth turn down and her already full lips purse out. It's adorable.

Annie walks out of the dressing room. She's in something typically Annie. Floral print, conservative cut, vintage style. "What do you think?"

"It's nice."

"Just nice?"

"Well. What do _you_ think?"

"I like it. But I want something more grown up. I don't want to keep looking like this little girl. I want to be," and here her voice turns into whisper and she tilts her head for emphasis, "I want to be _sexy._ I'm going to try another one on."

Britta just smiles and giggles a bit. If only Annie knew that she was always sexy. Just in that naïve, oblivious way. She's not sure she wants to stroke little Annie's ego, though. A little confidence goes a long way, and after all, _Annie's pretty young. We try not to sexualize her. _Not to mention that Britta's favorite thing about Annie is her unintentionally charming girlishness. It reminds her of an innocent youth she never possessed.

"How about _this _one?"

"Whoa." Britta's mouth is hanging open as Annie stands before her in a strapless, lace number with a dangerously short hemline.

"Am I sexy?"

"Oh, yeah. Look, Annie. The thing about being sexy is that you have to balance it with some conservativism to keep it tasteful. Or else you end up with Starburns sneak-attack grinding up behind you. You know what? I saw something over in that corner that I think would be perfect for you. It's classy and alluring. I'll go get it."

Annie watches Britta make a beeline to the rack and pick up something floral and vintage that showed some skin. It was perfect. How was Britta able to peg her so well? How was Britta able to even be her friend? Annie was still very conscious of how much she had hurt Britta in the past. First with Vaughn and then with Jeff. And yet, here was Britta, finding her dresses and tolerating her indecisive obsession.

"Thanks so much, Britta! This is perfect. You're the greatest. I _reeaallly _mean it."

"Haha. Okay."

Britta decides that since Annie's going the sexy route, she'll let her have the spotlight. She really does want Annie to shine uninhibited. She's growing up and embracing her feminine power, learning how to wield her body. Britta's just grateful Annie's not doing it by sleeping with strangers at sketchy parties like she did when she was that age.

The girls are walking out of the mall, bags in hand. Bags filled with delicate fabrics, costume jewelry, makeup, and other essential trappings for the next day's gala.

"Britta, can I spend the night at your apartment?"

"What? Why?"

"We can get ready tomorrow and go the dance together! It'll be soooo much fun! Promise!"

Britta wants to say no. But she says yes for two reasons. One is that just because she's learned how to go to the bathroom with other women, it doesn't mean she can't try other mainstream feminine things. The other (and the one she's less likely to admit to) is because Annie's wide eyes framed by her doll-like lashes look so excited, and they're just so captivating when they're that way.

Annie squeals with delight and bounces all the way to Britta's used hybrid.

Britta's cooking dinner. Pasta, salad, vegetarian soup. Britta's a good cook, actually. Annie is a bit surprised by it. She never would have pegged Britta as a culinary enthusiast. Britta says she only does it because it's therapeutic. Not because of any feminine inclinations to homemaking. Let's just make that clear. She's playing The Smiths in her old, battered CD player. Annie's just sitting at Britta's counter, watching her cook.

If she's being honest with herself, Annie often gets jealous of Britta. She gets all this attention for being hot and hip and confident. As much as Annie pretends to disapprove of Britta's weathered personality and edgy look, she secretly wishes she could be like her. Britta is gorgeous, really. She's standing there barefoot, hair tangled, in sweatpants and an oversized Nirvana T-shirt, and she's still really, _really_ pretty.

"Britta?" Annie's voice is timid and she draws the name out as if she can't decide whether or not she wants to finish saying it.

"Yeah?"

"Um. You know how Pierce always makes these comments about you being," she goes down to a whisper, but this time without the head tilt, "a _lesbian?_"

"Oh, god, yeah. That man is such a pig."

"Well. Um. You've never actually clarified that you're straight. I mean, obviously you're into guys what with Jeff and Vaughn and all, but could you be, maybe…"

"Bisexual? Why do you ask?"

"Well. It's just… You're very edgy and sexually cavalier, so it just seemed like maybe you could be?"

"I don't believe in labeling anyone's sexuality. It's all fluid. If your question is whether or not I've hooked up with girls before, then yeah. I had some wild days in my past. If your question is whether I'd do it again, well… You know what? I probably would. I mean, if the right girl came along. I don't mean to say that I'd sleep with literally anyone who's willing."

"What kind of girl would be the right girl?"

"Uh. I guess I won't know until I meet her, huh?"

"I guess…"

Annie was brought up in a very conservative household. Girls brought up with parents like Annie's turn out one of three ways. First, they can be repressed to the point of psychosomatic manifestations. Second, they can be rebellious, rejecting every parameter enforced upon them in their adolescences. Third, they can be a disturbing combination of sexually repressed and sexually curious. Annie came out the third way. She won't say the P word, but she finds herself wondering what it would be like to do what Britta's done. She even believes Britta when she says sexuality is a fluid thing.

"Um. Britta?"

Britta exhales loudly. "Yes, Annie?"

"How do two girls, you know, _do it?_"

"Uh. With fingers and tongues, mostly."

"Well, I figured that, but _how?_"

"Oh, Annie. You don't need to know that."

Britta's a bit uncomfortable with this exchange. If _she's _being honest with _her_self, then she can't deny that she feels an attraction to Annie. It's one she mostly tries to suppress. She doesn't really feel a sexualized attraction. More of an aesthetic one. And of course her adorable personality doesn't help. All the girls Britta's hooked up with have been just like her: edgy, alternative, bold. Annie's different. And still Britta just can't help but wonder what it would be like to run her hands up and down Annie's girlish and hesitant figure. But it would be weird. Right?

Annie thinks that if she were to try _being intimate _with a girl, she would like it to be someone as gorgeous and experienced and comfortable as Britta. Not that she would ever do that. As curious as she is, she just couldn't do it. What would her mother say? But then she thinks about how much she would like to tangle her fingers in those soft, golden curls and get closer to those clear, expressive eyes and touch that skin as soft and smooth as her own. Maybe she should just try. And if she doesn't like it, she can always stop, right? And no one else needs to know. No, no, no. She needs to stop thinking like this.

Britta turns to face Annie. She's lost in some sort of fantasy. She has that vacant look in her eyes and a slight smile. And now she's biting her lip. Britta knows that look. She's seen it in tattooed, leather-wearing, punk-listening rebel girls. She's never seen it in a Jewish, cardigan-clad, type A girl. Britta knows she can't make the first move here. As the older, experienced, less straight-laced one, it would be easy for her to unintentionally frighten or take advantage of Annie. She has to give Annie the green light. But she can't take a step. Girl-on-girl encounters are tricky. That's something that Britta understands much better than Annie does.

Annie snaps out of her own little world and notices the strange look Britta's giving her. She looks like she wants to say something. She looks like she's struggling to maintain her self-control. They make eye contact. Britta bites her lip and looks downward. Even Annie knows this is the universal girl signal to go ahead and approach. She has a clear open door. So should she be repressed, play-it-safe Annie? Or should she be sexy, live-in-the-moment Annie?

She takes too long to decide and the tension of the moment wears thin and snaps. Britta looks at the confused girl frozen in her kitchen and gives her a warm, friendly smile in an attempt to reel things back into the normal, sexual-tension-free zone. She turns back to the stove. "I'm almost done heating up this soup. I hope you like vegetarian…"

Annie suddenly finds the courage to try something she never _ever _thought she was capable of. She strides up to Britta and takes her face in her hands. Before Britta has the chance to react, she's tasting strawberry lip gloss and smelling jasmine perfume and feeling those lashes flutter next to hers. Annie's an alarmingly good kisser. Britta tries not to think about how similar Annie's technique is to Vaughn's. She breaks it off and gently pushes Annie back by the shoulders. Without letting go, she asks her if she's sure she wants to do this. She assures her that she doesn't need to prove anything to her or anyone else. Annie is sure. In fact, the thrill is better than anything she ever got off pills she insists.

The next time Annie's brain has enough space to formulate a coherent thought, her blouse is half unbuttoned, she's lying on Britta's couch and those dancing eyes and defined lips are hovering above her face. Annie grins when she realizes that she does enjoy this. The sensitivity and softness that is another woman is much more pleasant than she had dared to hope. And Britta certainly knows what she's doing. Britta begins to kiss her way down Annie's neckline and her lips follow the course of Annie's buttons as they are undone one by one with remarkable dexterity. When she reaches the waistline of Annie's skirt, Britta looks up as if to ask permission to go on. Annie's eyes smile as she bites her lip. Britta gets back to the business of ridding Annie of her many pesky layers of clothing.

"Tell me you didn't wonder at least once or twice what Shirley would say."

"It was haunting me almost the whole time! We shouldn't tell her, should we?"

"Of course not! I know you're really close with her, but remember what happened when I told her I slept with Jeff? It's probably best we not say anything to her… Or to anyone."

"Oh god. I can just imagine how gross Pierce would be about it. And Troy would never stop asking questions."

"Exactly. We should probably actually eat this food that's been sitting here for 2 hours and then go to sleep. We'll talk more while we get ready for the Fall Formal tomorrow."

They eat Britta's concoctions, half dressed. Britta's wearing that T-shirt and lacy underwear. Annie's in a pair of gym shorts borrowed from Britta and her bra. When they go to bed, Britta offers to give Annie some extra pillows for the couch.

"Britta. Can't I share your bed?"

"Why? So we can snuggle?" Britta laughs. And then she realizes that's exactly what Annie wants. "Annie, after a casual hookup, you don't really…" She trails off. Jeff was right when he said disappointing Annie is like choking the Little Mermaid with a bicycle chain. "Oh, fine."

The girls fall asleep, squished together on Britta's small bed. Annie smiles to herself. She can feel Britta's wiry frame around her and it's more comfortable than having the couch to herself she thinks. She doesn't know quite what's going on here, but she knows that she's glad she took that first step.

Britta knows that tomorrow morning most likely holds some awkward and drawn-out conversations. They have to decide if this is a one-time thing, if it's a purely physical thing, etc. It may take some effort to get both of them on the same page. But until then, she'll be damned if she doesn't enjoy falling asleep with an adorable, curled up Annie breathing in rhythm with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Britta's eyes flutter open. She stretches out on her back, groggily processing what today held in store. Right. The dean's stupid Fall Formal. Which she has to get ready for. With Annie. Oh… Shit. Annie. Where did she go? And what is that noise coming from the kitchen.

"Britta! You're up. I made paaaancakes." Annie's singsong voice and bright eyes reveal that she is much more of a morning person than Britta is.

"Oh, thanks, Annie. You didn't have to do that."

"Well I've been up for a while, but I didn't want to wake you, and I needed something to do." Annie was already showered and dressed. In yesterday's clothes, of course.

"Look. I think we need to talk about what happened last night."

"Don't worry about it, Britta. I was just experimenting. I liked it, though. If you'd like to do it again, I would love to. But if you want it to just be a one-time thing, that's perfectly fine, too."

"Okay. Well, I just don't want this to become a sticky situation emotionally."

"Britta. I'm not a child. I can handle this."

"Where did love-struck little girl Annie go? Weren't you fawning all over Jeff after you guys just made out?"

"I learned my lesson. I'm mature enough to handle this, Britta. Promise."

Britta's a bit taken aback… And disappointed? No. Not disappointed. Grateful. Grateful that Annie is taking everything in stride and being level-headed about it. This is all turning out much better than she expected. Right?

It's still mid-morning, and the dance isn't 'til 8. The study group is meeting for dinner at a semi-fancy restaurant at 6. So until then, Britta has to watch Annie bustle about cheerily as she cleans her apartment. Apparently, the state of Britta's place is shameful for a 29 year old woman. 29. How old is Annie again? 19. Well, it doesn't seem to bother Annie, so it must be okay.

"Can I take you to lunch?"

"We can _go_ to lunch, but you're not _taking _me, silly."

"Annie. You had sex with me last night; the least you can do is let me buy you a lunch."

"You made me dinner."

"But it doesn't count, because you made me breakfast."

"Oh, fine. But only because I spent almost all my allowance on that dress I bought yesterday."

They go to a little café and it feels really nice. Just the two of them chatting and giggling over coffee and sandwiches. Britta feels like this is something she could do on a regular basis. Annie's telling a story about something that happened in her biology class on Wednesday. Her eyes are animated and her arms are wildly gesturing. Britta's not really listening to the story. She's just watching. Just as Annie reaches the end of her story, the café door opens and who should walk in but Shirley Bennett herself.

"Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. What do we do?" Britta's frantically whispering.

"Hide! Under the table!"

"What? That's ridiculous. Why-" Britta is cut off when Annie drags her under the table just as Shirley walks by.

"That was close! She would have been so mad that we didn't invite her."

"Um. Annie. We're not out of the woods, yet. We're stuck under a table while Shirley sits right behind us."

"Right. I'll go up and distract her. I'll tell her I'm here alone while you sneak out, and then I'll join you."

"Annie, this is crazy talk."

"Oh, well, then. I'd like to hear your oh-so-perfect idea," Annie hissed.

"Fine, fine."

Annie struggles to gracefully emerge from her hiding spot. Thankfully, Shirley is engrossed in her menu and doesn't notice where Annie came from.

"Shirley! How are you this morning? Where are your boys?"

"Annie! So nice to see you, girl! Elijah and Jordan are visiting their father this weekend."

"Oh. House to yourself while you get ready, then? How fun!"

"You bet. I was just going to get a makeover after I finish my lunch. Would you like to come with me?"

"Well, um. I- I would love to. But I'm… busy."

"You better not be doing anything with Britta without inviting me."

"What? No! I would never! I have to go! Bye!"

"No need to shout. See you tonight, Pumpkin."

Annie runs outside and joins Britta in her car. Both agree that they should probably lay low for the rest of the afternoon. They return to Britta's house and watch a bit of television before getting ready for the dance. Of course Annie wants to watch Gossip Girl reruns. Of course Britta wants to watch the news. They bicker a little. Annie gets her way, of course.

Annie's watching the way Britta puts on her lipstick. She's up on the ball of one foot, leaning into her mirror. She paints her lips with the precision of a woman who's spent over a decade wearing makeup. She could be a regular femme fatale, Annie thinks. Like the women with fur coats and cigarette holders in the old movies. Only, Britta would never wear a fur coat.

Britta can feel Annie staring. She doesn't look back. She doesn't want to jinx this moment. She keeps applying her makeup just as she would usually. Only her movements are more stylized, and she's much more focused on avoiding Annie's gaze. She just wants Annie to feel the same unrecognized longing that she does when she watches Annie tell stories over lunch.

It's 4:30. They have to leave in an hour in order to get to dinner on time. It's enough time, Annie decides. She watches as Britta undresses, pretending not to realize Annie's icy eyes are glued to her body. Britta reaches for her dress, but Annie steps up and gently takes it from her and sets it aside. Britta has a quizzical look on her face that fades into a smirk when she realizes what's going on.

Before you can say "macaroni with pepper jack", Annie's clothes are in a wrinkled pile in the corner. She's a little nervous because she's never been completely naked in the daylight before. But Britta's there, and she's not thinking about that hideous birthmark on Annie's hip or the fact that her left breast is slightly larger. She's just exploring everything with the fervor of a 14 year old boy. And this gives Annie the sexual confidence she needs.

Before you can say "streets ahead", Britta finds herself on her back, straddled by a determined-looking Annie.

"You don't have to do anything to me, Annie. I'm fine just working my magic on you."

"Not a chance. Last night, I didn't know how to do anything, so I let you run the show. But now I have an idea how it works. And I'll be darned if I'm not going to practice."

"Okay. If you really want to."

Instead of dignifying that with a response, Annie begins to leave a trail of firm, slightly hesitant kisses down the length of Britta's body. The further she goes, the surer of herself she becomes. A few minutes later, Britta's arching, gasping and fisting the sheets, and Annie's beaming with pride.

They get dressed quickly, and scramble to get to Britta's car by 5:30. They make it just in time, though Annie's still finishing her makeup, and Britta keeps checking her hair in the rearview mirror. They pull into the restaurant parking lot. Britta draws a sharp breath in. Annie gulps visibly.

"This isn't a big deal, right? I mean, it won't be awkward, will it?"

"Of course not, Annie. We'll just say that I picked you up on the way if anyone asks."

"I don't like feeling like I'm hiding something from my friends."

"Tell that to the Annie that organized the sabotage of our space simulator launch."

Annie lets out one of her signature indignant gasps. Britta reassures her that it will all be okay. And coming from Britta, she believes it. It's not that Annie doesn't trust many people, because she does. But she just feels extra secure when it's Britta telling her that she'll be fine. Maybe it's her penchant for brutal honesty that makes her trustworthy. Maybe it's the way her usually severe expressions soften when she says it. Whatever it is, it ensures that Annie can walk inside and greet the others without feeling worried.

Britta is sitting on one end of the table with Jeff and Troy. Annie is next to Shirley as always. They're not sitting in their usual study group order. This bothers Annie a little because whenever she looks up from her salad, she's expecting to see Britta sitting across from her. Britta keeps stealing diagonal glances at Annie which Annie refuses to acknowledge. It's not that she doesn't want to. It's just that she feels significantly more self-aware with Shirley, and she doesn't want to slip up.

"What are you looking at, Britta?" Troy asks.

"Oh, nothing. Just that- that painting on the wall over there."

"Yeah. That painting's so cool. If you kinda blur up your vision when you look at it, it looks like a robot on fire."

"What? That's ridic- Whoa. You're right."

The dinner goes along just as you'd expect. Pierce makes a toast that starts out heartwarming and winds up being offensive. Troy tears up. A slightly drunk Jeff tells him to man up. Abed makes a movie reference. Shirley says "That's nice!" Britta looks at Annie. Annie looks at the wall.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit short. I had writer's block somethin' fierce. **

It's not like Britta was expecting to slow dance with Annie in front of the entire school at the Fall Formal. But she still isn't taking Annie's cold shoulder very well. You'd think for all her insistence that she is mature, Annie would realize that her awkward avoidance is not the best way to handle this situation. Then again, it's not like Britta's incessant sidelong glances and mental obsession is a good way to handle it, either.

Annie hopes she isn't hurting Britta's feelings. She hopes she understands that she can't look at her and not flush red and sweat and stutter. Shirley just won't leave her side, and it's throwing her off. What if she meets Britta's eyes and blushes and subconsciously bites her lip, and Shirley notices and doesn't think it's nice and guilt trips her into oblivion?

You know what? Who needs Annie's attention to have fun? Britta finds Troy on the dance floor and starts breakin' it down like she hasn't since her anarchist days. She hopes Troy doesn't find it odd that she keeps inching closer to where Annie is busy doing the electric slide with Shirley (who still has her oversized bag over her shoulder).

What Troy does notice is that the further left on the dance floor they go, the more aggressive Britta gets with her dancing. And Troy's definitely not complaining. He tries to catch Jeff's eye and get an "atta bro" nod or at least an impressed eyebrow-raise. Instead, he gets an exasperated eye roll.

Britta fails in getting Annie to look her way. So she decides to take a break at the refreshments table. Jeff intercepts her on her way.

"What the hell was that, Britta?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Um, try the clothed sex with Troy on the dance floor over there."

"Oh, come on, Jeff. It wasn't that bad."

"Britta, you are a good ten years older than that boy. Cool. It. Down."

"Alright, fine, Dad."

"What has gotten into you tonight? You're being weird."

Britta sighs. "I wish I could tell you."

They both join Abed by the regular-sized cookies and the punch that may have been spiked by Professor Duncan. Britta and Jeff talk about how dumb the dance is and how corny the decorations are. Abed silently watches them interact and mentally records the dialogue to review later. Eventually, Pierce returns from his 45 minute bathroom trip, and Troy, Annie and Shirley come in from the dance floor.

"Well I don't know about you guys, but I've had enough sweaty, awkward bouncing for one night. What do you say we steal some refreshments and hang out in the library for a bit before we go home?"

Everyone thinks Jeff's idea is a good one.

There's a lull in the laughter and Britta announces that she has to go to the bathroom.

"Annie?"

Annie doesn't actually look at Britta, but she wordlessly follows her out of the room. Shirley looks down at the table, disguising her slight frown.

The bathroom is packed, and Britta realizes this was not the best place to go to talk to Annie. She ushers her into the corner where they can hear each other speak.

"Annie, what's wrong? Why can't you even look at me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all. It's just… I'm so worried that I'm going to let something slip and that Shirley won't want to be my friend anymore."

"Oh, Annie. We don't have to tell anyone, but you can't get caught up in what the others think, okay? All that matters is that you're happy with yourself. If there's one thing life has taught me, that's it. Are you happy with what's going on?"

"Absolutely!"

"Then it doesn't matter what Shirley would say. Or anyone for that matter. Do you get that?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do." Annie's beaming, and she straightens her spine as a physiological mirror of her psychological shift in mindset.

"You look really hot right now, by the way."

And before you can say "rowboat cop", Annie finds herself in the handicapped stall, crushed between Britta and the wall while several girls stop fixing their smudged lipstick and their frizzy hair for a second, wondering if those noises are what they think they are.

"Girls are supposed to take a long time in the bathroom, but you two came back looking more disheveled than you did when you left. Something isn't right here."

You'd think Britta would know by now that nothing gets past Abed.

"Um. Well. There were a lot of people out there and the halls and restroom were really crowded." Annie offers an explanation that quiets Abed down, but leaves him looking like someone offered him a snack bar when he said he could eat a horse.

They all leave to their respective apartments/hotel rooms/townhouses/parents' houses. Britta offers to drive Annie home, and she accepts.

"Um. Annie?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Are we going to keep doing this?"

"Like secretly hooking up?"

"Yeah. Whatever the hell this is."

"I don't know. What are we? What are we doing?"

"What do you want to be?"

"Why do you always ask _me _these things?"

"Because I'm afraid to make a decision for you."

"Well, don't be. Tell me what we are. Tell me what we should be."

"Annie, these things aren't cut and dry. There aren't easy answers for human interactions."

"It's just… I don't like this weird limbo. I mean, I like that it makes me feel grown-up and cool for not needing to define our relationship, but I'm starting to get nervous. Is that stupid?"

Britta pulls into Annie's driveway.

"No. Not at all. Nothing you feel can be stupid, Annie. Look. Do you want to get coffee and see a movie with me tomorrow afternoon? We can go out of town so we don't run into Shirley."

"I would like that. A lot."

"Well, then. I'll call you tomorrow morning."

Annie bounces inside. Thankfully, the house is asleep, and she floats her way up the stairs and into her room. She hasn't felt this giddy and silly since she made out with Jeff. And even then there was guilt mixed in with all the other happy emotions. She has a date tomorrow. Not with an ambiguously gay high schooler. Not with a hippie who just wants to eat ice cream in the park. A real, grown-up date. With Britta.

Wait. Does this mean she and Britta are dating now? Are they girlfriends? While half of her doesn't care, the other half needs to know. Because that half needs assurance that Britta's not going to turn out to be straight or transfer to Delaware.

As much as Annie tries to be detached and cool, she's still an emotional teenage girl with a life so hectic and unpredictable, it warrants some sort of stability. She needs someone to be a constant.

A warm smile creeps its way onto Britta's face as she drives home. Tomorrow, she'll get to watch Annie's eyes light up and her arms wave as she tells more stupid stories. Tomorrow, she'll get to bicker with Annie about who's going to pay for coffee and movie tickets. Tomorrow, she'll get to listen to Annie vacillate between too-cool-for-labels and insecure-and-in-need-of-some-sort-of-commitment. Sometimes, Britta hates that warm fuzzy feeling of total affection in the pit of her stomach.

She's not sure if this makes Annie her girlfriend. But whatever. They'll sort it out. Honestly, she hopes it does. The last thing she wants to do is scare the girl away by getting too serious, but she's not going to pretend she's too aloof and alternative for a committed relationship with a girl she really likes.

Yeah, she said it. Or thought it, rather. She likes her.

Britta _likes _Annie.


End file.
